


A Partner Is Everything Needed to Sate the Endless Want of a Soul

by DarkPoisonousLove



Series: Love Can Be a Trap That Sets You Free [3]
Category: Winx Club
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dialogue Heavy, Dubious Ethics, F/M, Happy Ending, Magic, Mentions of abusive parenting, Moral Dilemmas, Partnership, Voice Loss, implied trust issues, issues with consent, not in a sexual way - Freeform, or rather getting to that stage, siren au, still disturbing enough though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22259071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPoisonousLove/pseuds/DarkPoisonousLove
Summary: Out of the cave and with the enchantment in his pocket and Griffin’s hand in his, Valtor's ready to celebrate his victory and get to know his new partner. She even has a mark to confirm she’s his, so why does he keep facing problem after problem the single root of which is that knowledge exactly?
Relationships: Griffin/Valtor | Baltor (Winx Club)
Series: Love Can Be a Trap That Sets You Free [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602292
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	A Partner Is Everything Needed to Sate the Endless Want of a Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I blame her-majesty-wears-jeans for everything since she just had to ask how part 1 would continue if I were to write more. I did write more. And I’m nowhere close to finished.

The sun had already set and it was well into the evening when they made it back to the clearing. They'd have to spend the night there as he was too exhausted to summon the needed energy to open a portal back to Obsidian. He could probably get Griffin to do it–she certainly had the power for it–but, truth be told, he wasn't in a rush to go back to being his mothers' errand puppet yet when he could spend the time getting to know his new partner.

He had no idea how old she was. She could have lived for hundreds of years even though her eyes were filled with wonder at the world around them as they moved swiftly, drinking in the mellow green of the grass and trees–every bit as different from the sickly grass that had tried to kill him as the light of day was from the darkness of the cave–in front of them that were illuminated by the fire in the sphere still floating above his head. He wasn't even sure if she'd seen anything outside of her cave–he wasn't exactly certain how she'd gotten there in the first place which was just one of the endless things they had to discuss–but he'd be glad to show her everything that the world outside had to offer. The thought of standing on top of it with her hand in his–he still remembered the coolness of her skin against his and the softness of her touch, as if it had been water caressing him–was sublime and he tried to focus on that to distract himself from the nagging question of how he was going to explain his new partner to his mothers without revealing to them that he was in possession of the enchantment. He'd gone a bit off course with that mission that he'd kept secret from them.

There were more pressing concerns currently, though. He was starving and while he had no idea if sirens needed food, Griffin was not a siren anymore and, considering the radical change she'd gone through, it was probably best to get her to eat something. And they needed to light a fire if they wanted to actually wake up in the morning and not spend the rest of eternity as one with the clearing after the cold of the night had chased the life from their bones.

He nearly shivered at the thought of the ice frost biting at his skin fueled by an endless flow of rage, which was exactly what awaited him if he went back to his mothers without a good explanation why he had an ex siren with him. They would know the moment they looked at her, he was sure of it. He had to focus, though, and take it one problem at a time.

He wouldn't have to worry about any potential punishments his mothers had in store for him if hypothermia never let him get back to their home base. And finding fire would prove to be a problem now that his inner flames were exhausted and barely flickering still.

They still had the fire in the sphere floating above his head but it couldn't really provide enough heat to justify the power it was draining from him and just the thought of trekking through the forest in search of wood was making the light in it waver as his energy was being sucked out rapidly when his determination slipped through his fingers. It had gotten him far but it wasn't endless when he was alone against the whole world and had to face its unending challenges on his own.

He felt Griffin's fingers tugging at his coat as she reached into the pocket and pulled out the enchantment, holding it out to him.

He wasn't sure how exactly she'd figured out what was going on in his head. If she could still read his thoughts, then that was something to be accounted for. Not necessarily bad–she was his partner and that would give them a way to communicate without words–but still something to be mindful of, especially since he wasn't a fan of having his thoughts poked into. It was something he would really prefer to go without. Especially when he had a choice on the matter.

It was possible that Griffin had reached the same conclusion as him when it came to what their next step had to be through logic, though. And considering her genius solution to the problem, he was willing to bet on that.

He took the shell from her, his fingers brushing against hers and he was glad to see she didn't feel the need to pull away. Though, it could be simply because she knew he had the means to make her bend to his will. He wasn't exactly certain how much free will she had after his little stunt with the Dragon Fire and he preferred to think about the perfect opportunity to give the enchantment a test run rather than on thoughts about the ethics of his actions. Or the lack of thereof.

She had him under her spell as much as he had her under his. Well, actually, it was her own magic that had marked her his but she'd been aware of the consequences of the actions she'd undertaken and he hadn't forced her into anything but had won their battle of wills fair and square... Almost. (If you didn't count stealing her oxygen from her.) So the playing field was evened out, considering how enchanted he was by her.

He opened the shell, hoping the enchantment would sway his mind into quieting down as well so that he could focus on the pressing matters rather than on the worries that were washing over him and trying to drown him. He'd avoided that fate when it'd been Griffin's magic threatening him with it. It would be ironic to suffer the same demise at his own hand.

The sound that spilled from the shell drowned out everything else, holding his attention on it even though it was flowing all around him, surrounding him like he was an island in the ocean. The soft whispers of waves washed over him, tugging at his heartstrings and seducing his mind into following them as if it was the tide that was pulling him further and further into a tranquil sea made of peace that made every strain in his muscles ease and every struggle in his mind cease to the point where he almost forgot about the intention he had to put forward if he wanted the enchantment to get his will to take over the world around. Magic was emotion so he did his best to focus on his want for food and firewood and not get dragged into the calm trance the sound of the waves induced.

He barely heard it at first but the noise got louder, making its way through the soothing sound of the enchantment and digging into his head. The cracking of the wood would have snapped him out of his infatuation with the song of the ocean waves whether he'd wanted it or not and he allowed it, a little bit worried by the effect the magic had on him. It was so alluring, sweet, seductive, tempting him to give up his will and do as its master desired to the point where he almost forgot that that was him. He held the power, and yet, he wasn't completely immune to it. And nature wasn't either.

The trees were bending their branches and breaking them off, the wood falling in the clearing so that they could use it for their fire. It was like a self-destructive dance that was equally hypnotizing and terrifying and he couldn't tear his gaze away from the haunting sight as the trees kept twisting and finding new ways to maim themselves since they were left no choice but to follow his will tangled into the sound of the enchantment. And over their branches arrived two big leafs with berry-like fruits on them that two of the trees almost snapped themselves in half when they bent over to lay them down on the grass for them.

Griffin's hands on his startled him when she pushed to close the shell and stop the eerie spectacle of nature sacrificing itself for them. Her head was bowed and she let go of him slowly when the sound of the ocean stopped and the trees returned back to their natural motionlessness.

It helped him regain his own autonomy now that the universe looked the same as he knew it and he wasn't caught in the middle of a mystical ritual he didn't understand. He moved to pocket the enchantment, a sense of awe filling him at the sight of the little shell now that he'd seen the enormous power it held. It was hard to comprehend even though it was exactly what he'd been after.

"How did that happen?" he asked, his words a jumble in his mind that was still mostly full of the otherworldly experience he'd just had. And he would be embarrassed to admit he didn't understand magic in front of anyone else–and punished if it had been his mothers who'd watched him get all speechless at the power that was like nothing else he'd ever witnessed–but she was his and it was safe to trust her with his lack of knowledge.

"It's the nature of the enchantment," Griffin said, her voice so quiet he had to strain to hear it and it still cut through him with how different it was from the melodic sound he was used to. It was nothing like it'd been when she'd first spoken to him and asked him to kiss her. It was like sandpaper scraping against his ears and threatening to make them bleed, but it was even more painful to his heart to listen to her like that. It was as if life was draining out of her and she barely had enough oxygen left to speak. "It sways the-"

"What happened to your voice?" he interrupted, his eyes searching her face as if trying to find the thing that was doing that to her when she finally looked up at him.

Her own eyes looked at him, the golden not as gleaming as it'd used to be and he knew that had nothing to do with the dim light because they'd glowed even in the darkness of the cave before he'd burned a part of her away. The look in them was studying, bordering on suspicious, but it seemed to soften when she found what she'd been looking for. And he didn't know whether it was a good thing that that only happened after he felt the worry and insecurities resurface in him.

Griffin reached for his pocket again but his hand covered hers, holding it in place before she could pull the shell out once again. "It's in there," she croaked out even when her demeanor and her entire being seemed to soften. It was all she could manage now. "The enchantment is my voice in its archaic state when it hasn't been reined in by the restricted capabilities of my vocal chords," she explained, every word tugging on the strings of his heart so viciously it took everything from him not to clutch at her hard enough to hurt her and producing awful wailing sounds that echoed inside his mind since they were trapped inside him and couldn't get out. "It is the same as the Water Stars in essence and can sway the spark of the Dragon Fire in every living thing into doing its will," she said, making him stagger and he had to move. Not only because her quiet, rough voice was worse than the cackles of his mothers when they were taunting him.

"I'll go take care of the fire," he said as he let go of her hand, and if her eyes got glassier as if his voice or behavior was pulling tears from her, he did his best to ignore it. Just as he did with her form that remained still and anchored in place in the middle of the clearing as if she was cut in so many pieces that moving would make her fall apart. He knew the feeling but he couldn't help her when it was her who'd forced it upon him.

Her words rang in his ears–or rather, scraped at them since that was all her hoarse, no longer melodic voice could do after she'd extracted most of it in the shell to give to him–engraving in him the realization that he couldn't control her with the enchantment since her soul had no Dragon Fire. Its essence came from the Water Stars. So the only thing that held her by his side was her own spell he'd turned against her. But the effect of that had been burned away at least partially by his fire. Which meant she could leave him. And that had him scared.

He kept from looking at her as he tried to focus on the fire instead. He couldn't look at her. She'd been supposed to be his partner but all she'd done for him so far was make his heart bleed at the thought of her ripping her voice away to give to him and have terror gripping at his throat at the thought of her leaving. She couldn't. If she walked away, he'd be all alone against his mothers and their impossible demands again. And he knew even the enchantment wouldn't help with them since they'd find a reason to criticize him no matter how well he did on missions. Just a part of her wouldn't help him. He needed all of her, everything. He needed a partner to see him as equally deserving and worthy and not berate him when the smallest thing he did wasn't perfect. And she'd already given him that with the look of total adoration on her face that might have been an effect of the spell she was under but he'd won his victory.

The fear burning in him was enough to power his magic–perhaps a bit too much since the branches burst into flames, startling Griffin even though she was as far away from him as his heart could handle without starting to race even faster at the thought of her leaving–but it still left him feeling so weak. Weaker than he'd ever been. And that hadn't been the plan. He had to be more powerful with her at his side, yet, he only felt regret and trepidation. And even that wasn't enough to make him break away from her. Maybe sirens didn't even need magic to entrance you and it was just in their nature. Even if he'd made sure she wasn't a siren anymore.

He willed the flame in his sphere to die down as he had no more energy to feed it any longer and he didn't need it now that he was out of the cave and there was a bigger fire to keep him warm. That one didn't even drain his energy since he'd only given it the initial spark but the wood kept burning on its own without exhausting him further.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he'd been running around all day, using his strength and magic on the enchantment and Griffin without doing anything to recharge himself. Eating and sleeping sounded heavenly even if he had to get through the problems Griffin posed on both of those.

He walked over to where she'd sat down on the ground cross-legged–she seemed to be getting comfortable in her new form–and was studying the fruits the forest had found for them. It pulled forward the questions he'd had before of how much she knew about the world and the worried warmth with which they burned in his mind only left him angrier because he still wanted to show her everything she hadn't gotten to see for herself. Even with the very prevalent possibility of her breaking his heart when she disappeared, chasing her own freedom which he understood but didn't necessarily accept as he craved to get used to her being his partner.

"I'm... not really sure what these are," he said as he looked at the fruits before sitting down next to her. He hadn't seen fruits like that–colored in purple that very much resembled that of her hair–and couldn't really introduce her to something she hadn't tasted before since he was right there with her in the dark. He did suppose that they were edible, though, since he'd wanted food when he'd employed the enchantment to work.

"They're berries. Edible and sweet," Griffin said as she looked at him, her expression mellow to differ from her voice. At least she confirmed he'd been correct in his assumption about the fruits.

"Have you eaten them before?" he asked when he realized that she actually had more information than he did. He'd thought he'd be the one in familiar waters once they were out of the cave but perhaps that wasn't the case. Maybe she knew more than him despite being a siren tied to her lake. He could still sense the magic harbored inside her even after his own interference with the depths of her soul and it wasn't hard for him to believe she knew secrets he couldn't even imagine.

Griffin shook her head. "No, seaweeds were the only thing that grew in the waters of the lake," she said, her eyes getting distant as she remembered her life in the dark cave and the light in her eyes seemed to fade even more, answering his question about how much of the world she'd seen.

"I guess this is a first for both of us then," he said as he grabbed a few berries from one of the leafs, looking to distract her from the thoughts that were spilling out of her mind as if to drown them both as he could see the inside of his own mind reflected in the abyss of the lake they formed around the two of them. His own life consisted mainly of memories he wished wouldn't be that, wished he could forget, but most of them were engraved in his soul and some – even in his body. And he was running the risk of the present moment becoming yet another one of them, marking his heart with a scar for him to remember her departure by after she took the world of her being from him and left him alone in the dark emptiness of its absence. But right now it wasn't that. It was a chance to make a good memory with someone who understood him and something about her pushed him to choose to hope for the best since thinking about the worst had always resulted in exactly that happening. Even if it was absurd to bet on faith with all those traces left on his being that gave him proof he was right not to entrust his heart to it.

Griffin gave a small smile that was not radiant by any standards and was instead rather sad but that only struck him with how genuine it made it. All the smiles he'd had directed at him had either been a mockery or a threatening show of teeth. Either way–something to protect himself from. And he wasn't sure he'd had a real smile on his own face but the answer was most likely "no" if victorious grins and prideful smirks didn't count. But she'd gifted him with one of her own–perhaps even her first one, considering the striking similarity between the two of them–and seeing it was worth the possibility of him coming to hate it later.

She focused her attention on the berries, taking one and bringing it to her lips. There was a beat of hesitation before she inhaled, probably looking for a scent to at least give her a clue about the taste that would come next, and slowly dropped it in her mouth. Her jaws met slowly and an excited hum left her throat at the sweetness of the berry–not surprisingly since all she'd ever tasted before had been salty seaweeds–but in her remains of a voice it still sounded like she was in pain, the hoarseness of the sound poking into his own mind and he wrecked it to find something else he could focus on that would save him from hurting.

"How... how did you know they're berries if you haven't seen them before?" he asked, wondering if perhaps he should have let her enjoy the fruits as he watched her shove almost an entire handful of them in her mouth, their juice staining her lips in purple and making him want to wipe it away. Or perhaps lick it off. But she wasn't the siren he'd kissed anymore. She was the woman who could leave him if he pushed her to. And he preferred to keep his hands to himself if it meant he could keep her too.

"I have a concept about every form of life that exists," Griffin said and that topic didn't seem to upset her which helped his heart settle a little and perhaps have some excitement enter it at the opportunity to learn more about her and the magic that she was, even if that was only possible by listening to her strain what little voice she had left. "I don't know how that is possible–perhaps it is somehow tied to the Water Stars essence in me–but I know why it is," she said, wiping at her mouth to remove the berry juice and he hoped it was the sweetness of it that had made her want to remove its tantalizing presence on her lips and not his persistent gaze that had made her self-conscious or uncomfortable. "It was to help me understand nature better so that I could protect the enchantment better with the defense system it was up to me to create," she said, her lips getting pulled into another sad smile at the memories and he couldn't tell which part hurt. Was it the fact she'd had to part with her voice or was it leaving her own universe behind? He had to admit her creations had been impressive and he could see how she could get attached to them even if he couldn't relate, not having the power to create anything despite possessing the Dragon Fire. And she probably couldn't create life anymore either because all he could do was destroy.

"How long have you been guarding it?" he asked even though he was well aware that question had enormous potential to be painful. But he hadn't cared what he was causing her up to this point. Why start now when he could keep being interested in his wants only?

"I..." she paused, her face scrunching up into a frown deeper than her lake, "I don't know," she said, the answer seeming to shock her as much as it did him. "There was nothing in the cave to indicate the passage of time. I don't even know how many men and women have turned into compost for my ecosystem," she said, her look unfocused as if she was pulling her brain apart in desperate need to get some numbers she could work with. "Not even the number of those I dragged down to the bottom of the lake," she whispered, her already quiet voice quieter with something that nestled in his heart with the sole purpose of unsettling him. And it wasn't the thought of anyone else getting to kiss her either. (She'd taken care of all those who'd done it before him.)

"Are you all right?" he asked, feeling his own eyebrows knit as he debated whether to reach for her and pull her out of the mud in her mind but the thought of the pain on her face when he'd burned the water out of her soul convinced him against it.

"I'm a murderess," she said, the struggle in her voice to get the words out making it even harsher and her inability to concentrate her gaze on anything making the worry spin inside his head like a whirlpool, dragging forth the realization that so was he but, to differ from him, she seemed to care. "I was just an extension of the ocean that guards its secrets with violence if need be and the consequences of what I was doing weren't registering because it was simply my nature. But remembering all the terrified expressions of the people when they realized they couldn't breathe in my underwater embrace now that I understand what being a human is and what death means..." she shuddered, her conscience shaking her so profoundly it looked like she would fall apart, as fragile and soft as she was. She had barely been a human for a couple hours and she was already better at it than he was. She was better than him and didn't deserve what he'd done to her.

He'd changed the essence of her being, he'd made her human, made her mortal. He'd caused her pain that was now causing her more pain. Because he'd wanted to get his way. It was one of the most selfish things– _the_ most selfish one–he'd ever done, and he'd done plenty of those.

"It's not your fault." he said, the words rolling off his tongue as naturally as comforting himself had never been when he knew it was all on him. "You didn't have a choice."

He'd had. It had been one of the few times in his life he'd gotten to choose for himself without his mothers' threatening presence looming over his head, and he'd chosen to put her in the same place he was trying to escape. He'd tried to force her to be what he wanted her to be even though that was exactly what his mothers were doing to him. He'd thought he'd won their battle of wills but she'd never had a will of her own. If she'd had, she probably never would've kissed him in the first place, she never would've met him as she wouldn't have been forced to live in the cave.

"We should get closer to the fire," he said as he felt chills running down his back even if he wasn't sure flames could help rid him of those. He knew the bright light of her eyes could but he'd chased it away from them when he'd destroyed a part of her soul.

Griffin turned to look at the fire before shaking her head vigorously, her eyes trained on the flames with terror burning in them, and he realized that burning away the water from her soul had left her afraid of fire. Not just his fire, but any fire. Because it must have been so insanely painful, and she hadn't even given voice to her agony. (She couldn't have. She no longer had even that.) And he didn't want to hurt her more but she'd freeze to death if she didn't come closer to the fire.

He reached for his magic, plenty of self-loathing inside him to give him more than enough power to charge his spell with. He felt his body heat oozing out of him, telling him it was working and motivating him to keep tethering it to his coat. It would only make him shake harder once he took it off but those were chills he would actually welcome if that was the price of taking care of her.

"Here," he said when he was done with his spell, taking the coat off to have the night air biting viciously at him, and the effect was even more instantaneous when he'd also parted with most of his body heat. "It'll keep you warm," he said as he draped it over her shoulders, doing his best to avoid touching her just in case he'd managed to seal the association of his touch with pain in her mind as well.

"Thank you," she said and gave him a soft smile that he didn't really deserve since it'd taken him so long to realize he could do for her what no one had done for him if he could just stop being so selfish. She didn't ask what he'd do but he didn't deserve her worry either. He'd been absorbed in himself and his wants enough for both of them. And the grating of her voice in his head when she spoke only kept reminding him of that. So it was better for her not to ask. Seeing her muscles relax when she was all wrapped in his body heat helped his do the same far better than her words could.

He picked up his leaf with berries and walked over to the fire, sitting so close to it that it felt like the flames were licking at his back. It still wasn't enough to keep him warm when he was all chilled on the inside and that didn't even have anything to do with the body heat he'd lent to Griffin. In fact, that was the only thing that kept him sane currently, keeping a little spark of hope that he wasn't an exact copy of his mothers and more of a monster than a human alive inside of him.

He forced himself to eat the berries even if he was feeling sick to his stomach–Griffin at least seemed to enjoy them as she finished hers–because he would need the energy. He wasn't sure how much sleep he'd manage to get with the cold that had moved in under his skin but Griffin was his bigger concern as he hoped his spell would hold even when he fell asleep. He would be fine, his inner flames burning even when those on the outside weren't, but his spell was the only thing providing her with a source of heat since fire was even more of a nightmare to her than frostbite–something very hard for him to imagine, though it made perfect sense if he flipped the two different ways to die around–and it was all his doing.

She put the coat on and wrapped herself in it, startling his heart out of beating for a moment with the worry of how cold she had to feel but her voice pulled him back out of his head and to her. She bid him good night and the sound seemed more melodic now, as if a calm had fallen over her. Or he was simply deluding himself to assuage his conscience.

Perhaps he did have one, after all, and he was glad she'd poked it awake because it was better that way. It was better that he hurt so that she wouldn't. He'd already hurt her enough, changing not only her body and soul, but also her entire perception of the world and herself so profoundly and making her hate herself. And if when he woke up in the morning, she was gone with his coat and the enchantment–her voice, he corrected–in the pocket, then that would be more than fair. Because he'd forced her to be his partner when he himself couldn't be that, couldn't reciprocate what he was demanding, and if she left, that wouldn't be betrayal. It would be exactly what he'd had coming for him.

The cold was eating at him like he'd expected it to so he didn't pay attention to it and only noticed it was gone when there was warmth creeping slowly inside him and pulling at his consciousness to wake him from the sleep he hadn't felt himself falling into. All he knew was that he'd been thinking about her.

And now she was there, next to him on the ground, her back pressed into his to allow the heat of her body to ooze inside him as his coat was draped over them. It was such a comforting feeling that he didn't even worry she was close enough to stab him in the back. But another thought pierced through his mind too rapidly and painfully to allow him another moment's peace.

He shot up, pulling the coat off of her and leaving her exposed to the chill of the early morning air. His body pushed against hers as if to get her away from him which was, surprisingly, exactly what he wanted at the moment.

She moved, prompted away by the frantic energy that was spilling from him, but her smile still greeted him when he turned to make sure she was a safe distance away from him. "Good morning." Her voice was still as coarse as it had been the night before, hurting his ears with the question of why she was still with him, giving him loyalty that had no business touching him.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, his question causing the smile to fall away and leave behind confusion. At least that was more fitting since he was incredibly perplexed himself. He'd accepted that he didn't get to have her be his partner only to wake up and find her even closer than he'd left her–so much closer than he'd imagined she'd want to come–and pressed into him to keep him warm. "Why didn't you leave?" It was more incomprehensible than the magic she'd shown him, the magic she was made of.

"And let you freeze in the cold?" she asked, enough kindness and truthfulness in her eyes but it still wasn't enough for him after all his life he'd been raised to manipulate and pretend.

"I'm serious, Griffin," he said, his own voice harsh as he couldn't even find it in himself to control it and not snap at her when it was himself he was angry at. "After everything I did to you- Griffin isn't even your name." He'd allowed himself to get his head so far up in the clouds that he'd played god, giving her a name to suit what he was trying to make her when he wasn't capable of creation.

"It is now," she said calmly, still so unaffected by everything that was tormenting him, and he couldn't believe that was real when his own heart was aching in his chest at what he'd done for himself. And she'd gotten the burnt of it all.

"Yes, because I-"

"Got me out of the cave where I was a prisoner and had to murder people," she interrupted him and somehow the peaceful manner in which she did it was more startling than the times his mothers yelled at him in the middle of his sentence. Because she was trying to take care of him and as much as he wanted to fall into the offered affection, he couldn't when he knew he was in the wrong. He couldn't doubt her honesty when she looked at him with her gold eyes full of gentle light but he also couldn't delude himself he had the right to accept it when those same eyes weren't as bright as they'd been before he'd invaded her life.

"I hurt you," he said, his hands falling still in his lap at the face of her kindness that he couldn't understand. He'd ripped away parts of her to make her fit his vision of what she had to be, and that was even worse than being forced to grow into someone else's expectations for you. And he might have done her some good but that didn't matter when it had never been his intention.

"Maybe," she said, once again leaving him staggered at the prospect of reading his thoughts. "But that gave me the chance to explore this new world." Her words disputed that notion quickly. She'd been able to tell whet he desired most, and if she still had the ability, she would know he just wanted her to stop trying to convince him he'd done her a favor. (He wanted to believe it but he couldn't take the chance to sweep the rudiments of conscience that had fallen into his lap under the rug only to never find any again, for it would make him too similar to what he feared, and how could he live if he was terrified of himself?)

"You can do it on your own," he argued, knowing that was the only way for her to do it. Because if she stayed with him, she would be chained by his mothers' wishes like he was. And that was another thing he'd simply chosen to ignore in his selfishness and despair to not be alone when they crushed him under their words. And how could he willingly drag someone else into the same madness?

"I don't know much about humans and I'd be scared to approach them, considering how many I've murdered," she said, her voice breaking even more–as if she'd dropped it–as she lowered her head and she swallowed as if to keep any pain that knowledge caused her trapped inside her, as if she didn't have the right to be upset after what she'd done, and he understood too well just as well as he knew their situations were different. She'd had no choice but to hurt those people, and she hadn't had to hurt him because he'd hurt her first. "I would be alone for the rest of my life," she allowed at least some of her anguish to come out and free her from its burden only for it to start weighing him down. Because loneliness was a curse he wanted to spare her but the only way out of it was to drag her into his own suffering and that was just as cruel.

"I made you a mortal," he noted. His own impatience had taken more from her than he could give her. He could have looked, should have looked for another way to free her from her cage that wouldn't require her to part with aspects of herself. But of course, that hadn't been his goal. He'd just wanted her to be his. Even if she had to do it in pieces.

"Yes," her head snapped up as if that had returned the vigor the guilt had robbed her of, "I can feel the flow of time now that the infinity of the ocean isn't tangled in my soul. And it feels good to know that I don't have to... keep going for an eternity," she said and the lack of her voice finally seemed to fit her when all the life drained out of her.

"You're not afraid of dying?" he asked even though the answer was written all over her slackened muscles that were hard to watch after he'd seen the wonder at the world around them in her eyes and heard the excitement in her voice when she'd eaten the berries. There was still life left in her, life that she clearly wanted to experience but she would trade all of it just to ensure she'd get some peace at the end of it all. And a part of him was roaring against the notion but another part of him knew that she had the right to her own views. To her that was the ultimate definition of freedom and she could only enjoy life when she knew death was granted to her.

"Not really," she shook her head, throwing away the idea to explore everything the world could offer. (Though, perhaps even an eternity wouldn't be long enough for that.) She didn't want everything. What she could get would be enough because she'd already had too much, and that was a shock that plowed right into him with the force of the entire ocean. "I'm more afraid that this will turn out to be a dream," her eyes were trained on the soil as her fingers dug into it to ground her there, "even though sirens don't dream so that would be proof in itself, too," she gave a small smile as if still too scared to let herself believe it was all real, "and I'll be trapped in an endless life with no light of exit in sight."

"So you really are happy with what I did to you?" He'd mutilated her soul and robbed her of her peace of mind, he'd turned her into less than she'd been before, and she still looked content with it. And he couldn't understand how that was possible since he'd always had to be more, his flames always reaching further, spreading to swallow as much as possible in his search of power and it had never occurred to him that there could be too much before he'd met the eternity of the ocean.

"You freed me," Griffin looked at him, holding his haze and the depth and intensity of her stare made her eyes look like lakes of molten sunlight, shining with eternal gratitude that was so soothing to the wounds on his soul his own fire had left. It looked like it would start falling in heavy drops and sinking into his skin to heal them, and it was a look he greatly preferred over the one of total adoration the magic had forced on her.

"For my own selfish reasons," he pushed again. He couldn't understand why he was working against himself but he had to make sure that... that she was there because she wanted to be and not because he'd forced her to be his. And not because she felt like she owed him anything either. She owed him nothing, for he'd done nothing for her. He'd done it all for himself, grabbing for everything he could get.

"You were ready to let me go, right?" she asked, her tone so light, as if it was as simple for her to forgive him as the words were to get out.

He nodded, deciding to trust her judgment since she seemed to know far more than he could imagine. She knew how to sate her cravings and those were no easy beasts to tame. Especially when you'd been denied the simplest of your desires your entire life. And that made her much more special, much more magical than he ever could have imagined.

"Then there's hope," she said and when she smiled, he could see what she was talking about in her eyes, in the way they lit up like stars and glowed brighter than they had. Because he'd tried to do something he'd never done before and had put her before himself. He'd tried to give her what he'd thought she'd wanted, and she'd given him exactly what he'd wanted – proof that she was doing exactly what she desired and wasn't following anyone else's will, his or that of the ocean he'd purged from her soul.

He put on his coat, all of his body heat finally returning to him but he'd barely noticed its absence as he'd been focused on fixing everything he'd destroyed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the shell. He caught Griffin's hand, knowing his touch wouldn't be painful on her, and pressed it into her palm, closing her fingers around it.

"And now I'm returning your voice," he said as he held her gaze to let her know that even if she didn't want much, he'd make sure to give her more, more reasons to smile and be happy, more things to cherish during the time she had left. Because she'd agreed to be his partner and he was taking all the responsibility that came with being hers. He would gladly put in all the effort taking care of her and making sure she would never feel trapped or lonely again required. (Even if he had to be her sanctuary from his mothers. He hoped that part of who he was wouldn't chase her away, but he'd understand if it did. And his promise of devotion stood either way since her reciprocation wasn't a condition it came with.)

Griffin looked at him with eyes so wide they looked like little suns themselves and lips parted but not drawing in air as if the shock had made her forget she didn't have gills anymore. "You know it won't have the same effect coming from my mouth," she warned, not making a move to pull the shell out of his grasp as if to give him a chance to change his mind and pocket it again even though she was clutching at it so hard her hand was shaking. And if anything, it was only proof he was doing the right thing.

"Yes, I know," he said, now fully aware of what the magic in the shell could do. It could give him exactly what he wanted. "It will be much more beautiful." Her voice would be in its place and he'd finally get to hear its magical sound, the powerful sound of her voicing exactly what she wanted.

Griffin's eyes welled up with tears as her lips got pulled up in a wide smile. She didn't give him a chance to enjoy the sight, though, when she pulled her dress down, leaving the whole upper half of her body naked and making him avert his gaze.

"Come on, you've seen me naked," she said, but the light tone didn't translate well in her hoarse voice that was the perfect proof against her words. She'd been forced to give him every last part of herself and he wanted to give her her privacy. "Please, look," her plea was quiet but far too powerful for him to be able to resist it as he'd promised to respect her wishes.

She opened the shell and quickly pressed it against the scar where the golden key had been before. She hissed when the edges of the shell bit into her skin, drawing a little blood from her–he was surprised to see it was red even though he didn't know what he'd expected–but it started glowing in a mellow silver light that seemed to seep inside her until it disappeared completely and she removed the shell for him to see only the wounds of its edges left. The scar from the key was gone.

He reached instinctively to heal the small injuries but a memory of her face contorted in pain made him halt, his hand frozen midair.

Griffin covered it with hers and guided it to the skin of her abdomen, pressing it there and he looked deep into his mind and soul to find a healing spell and enough positive energy to use light magic for the first time. "Thank you," Griffin said in that rich voice that had enchanted him less than a day ago before his magic had even generated inside him and the tears fell.


End file.
